


Silent Importance

by aperture_living



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drama, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:37:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperture_living/pseuds/aperture_living
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He came in through the window like always, Hokage fanfare left back in the village, just a ninja, just a rival, just a friend. Over the years, his boisterous nature had been replaced with something more mature, something refined, a stone washed and polished, and while he still had his moments of excitability, of flustered determination, there was a filter that hadn’t been there when they were kids</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Importance

He came in through the window like always, Hokage fanfare left back in the village, just a ninja, just a rival, just a friend. Over the years, his boisterous nature had been replaced with something more mature, something refined, a stone washed and polished, and while he still had his moments of excitability, of flustered determination, there was a filter that hadn’t been there when they were kids. And he was silent. Silent and skilled and what he always wanted to be.

Sasuke met Naruto at the make-shift door, eyes watching him, looking out past him, far into the trees for ANBU and seeing nothing. Naruto always seemed to lose them, and Sasuke once again heard the annoyed muttering of a man who was lectured every time he walked back in through the gates. _I’m too important to go out alone_ , they said. _What the hell, man?! I don’t need a babysitter! I’m a damn ninja! You think they’d get the hint that I can take care of myself._

Sasuke said nothing then, just as he said nothing now. On the table sat a bowl of warm ramen, because this was a routine, it was habit, this weekly visit out to the far countryside to see an old friend, an old…whatever they were. The war had seen Naruto’s rise to power, and while Sasuke knew there were changes in place, even more changes coming, it wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t ever be enough. Bad blood ran deep, sat and boiled and every time he thought of that place—that place, he couldn’t imagine it as home.

But home made sure to visit him. To follow him. To track him down. Sasuke had learned to stop running after the third visit, and just let it happen, let himself grow accustomed to an orange invader slipping in through the window some time after dusk and making himself at home. He had started to think that this was more for the new Hokage’s benefit as his own; the pressures would weigh on anyone.

So, he had stopped growling at him to get out, stopped throwing kunai at the wall where he stood, stopped sitting in a glaring silence. Months had passed, and it smoothed, reluctantly, then easily, and he said nothing when after the twenty-third break-in, there was a bowl of ramen sitting on the table, still steaming. Neither one said anything about it, but Sasuke could read the gratitude in Naruto’s eyes, along with the importance of what it meant.

But Naruto had gotten good at not talking about things, a skill that both surprised Sasuke and impressed him. They never talked about his abandonment of the village. They never talked of Danzou or the massacre. They never talked about Karin or what he almost did to Sakura or The Valley of the End or Orochimaru. Instead, Naruto would ramble about the absurd requests he held audience over as Hokage, or diplomatic meetings between him and Gaara. Sometimes, he mentioned the romantic subplots of old comrades back in the village, or a new flavor that was being experimented at Ramen Ichiraku, or how Sakura had learned some new med nin techniques. And then there were the visits where they said nothing at all and sat in silence, or sparred out under the moonlight, adrenaline pumping, returning to the small house, panting, bruised, and their own brand of contentment.

This was visit forty-six, and Sasuke had the ramen ready, had his kunai strapped, was in the mood for a fight only an Hokage could give him, when he felt the familiar chakra and orange caught his attention. Naruto grumbled about being followed more than ever around mouthfuls of noodles, and Sasuke watched him with a less empathic grunt. When he was done eating, Sasuke said nothing and started to head towards the door, the universal sign of _Let’s get to it._

But this time, the Hokage grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his steps, forcing Sasuke to look back at him with one eyebrow raised over still black eyes.

“Look,” Naruto began, and Sasuke could feel his teeth grind involuntarily. He wasn’t in the mood for The Speech.

“Shut u—”

“No! Listen.” And he let go of the wrist and started reaching inside his jacket. “I know you’re not coming back, and I get it. I get it more than you ever think I do. I grew up, too, and I know I can’t make you because I don’t wanna make you miserable all so Sakura and I can be happy. So just fucking hear me out for once.”

Sasuke’s eyebrow remained quirked, but he crossed his arms and settled, giving Naruto the floor. Though he didn’t have to say it, his face screamed, Make it good.

“I know you’re not coming back, and that’s fine. I can’t—won’t—make you, not as Hokage, not as your friend, not as whatever we are. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a part of us, Sasuke.” From his jacket, he pulled out a hitai-ate, the Leaf symbol on it gleaming in the low lights of the room. “You don’t have to wear it. You don’t have to keep it. I just want you to know that we’re still with you, no matter what you decide to do.”

The silence was a palpable heavyweight champion, and Sasuke said nothing while Naruto tensed up to be punched. When the Uchiha neither made a move to take the gift nor strike, Naruto set it on the table beside his ramen bowl, and they didn’t speak of it anymore as they went out to spar. That night, the Hokage lost the fight, and he could see in the movements, in the red sharingan eyes, that it was because of the small piece of metal and fabric sitting inside.

They didn’t speak of it again.

At the fifty-second visit, when Naruto slipped in through the window, cursing the ANBU and the three loops it took to lose them, when he saw Sasuke sitting at the table, a bowl of ramen for the both of them. Wrapped around his right arm was the hitai-ate, knotted and secured, dark and matching the black sleeveless shirt he wore. He looked back at Naruto, daring a comment.

They both said nothing about it, though Naruto smiled a little to himself, before launching into the village’s gossip. Sometimes, the most valuable things in the world didn’t have the words to express their own importance.


End file.
